hands now rests the salvation of these realms.’ ‘Rest now,’ replied the Queen, ‘and come back another day.’ On the morrow the committee of the council saw the Queen again, and as there was no seat but hers in the room, the president mentioned that it was not meet that they should be kept standing. ‘Bring a seat for the council,’ directed the Queen; but, as the attendants were bringing in chairs, she said, ‘No, no, not chairs, but a bench; that was the rule in my mother’s time: but the bishop may have a chair.’ After another long conference the Queen directed the committee to return to Valladolid and discuss again, in full council the papers to which they requested her signature; and thus, unsatisfied, the members left her, only to find themselves prisoners at Valladolid, which was now in the hands of the rebels, who were rapidly marching upon Tordesillas at the urgent request of the townspeople of the latter place, to save Queen Joan from being carried away by the government party. The rebels had no time to communicate with Joan as to their aims before they appeared outside the walls of the town on the 29th August. As soon as Joan learnt of their coming she ordered the townspeople to welcome them; and so, amidst salute of cannon and enthusiastic cheers, Padilla, the rebel leader, and his host were escorted into the town, and passed before the Queen, who stood in a balcony of the palace. After resting and changing their garments, Padilla and other chiefs sought audience of the Queen. Joan received him smilingly. ‘Who are you?’ she asked, as he knelt before her. ‘I am Juan Padilla, my lady,’ he replied, ‘son of the captain-general of Castile, a servant of Queen Isabel, as I am a servant of your Highness.’ And then the insurgent chief told the astonished Queen all that had happened since old King Ferdinand died: how the evil foreign advisers of young Charles had brought all Spain into revolt, and that Padilla and the commons of Castile were ready to die in the service of their own Queen Joan. She expressed her wonderment at all this. She had been kept a prisoner, she said, for nearly sixteen years, and Denia, her gaoler, had hidden everything from her. If she had been sure of her father’s death she would have gone forth and have prevented some of this trouble in her realm. Then, addressing Padilla, she said: ‘Go now; I order you to exercise the authority of captain-general of the realm. Look to all things carefully, until I order otherwise.’